Maybe things are changing, or perhaps since the events of the past few months, I'm looking at life in new and wonderful ways, but, for the third time in a row, I've come back from a stupendous film. Again, utterly magical. This one leaves the two previous films in the dust, I must say. There's just something about an amazingly well written, directed, and acted movie that just happens to star real people, and that is not aimed at children.

You guessed it, no Hollywood film can do it. "Amelie" is a French flick and it really is as good as the critics claim. So, what's it about? Well, let me give you a very brief synopsis. It's about a girl, Amelie, who just decides one day that she's going to change the world around her. And she does. It's funny, at times hysterically so, romantic, poignant, and at a number of moments a little dark. That's enough. Go see it yourself, you lazy bum.

It was a bizarre evening, though, all over. Nick and I made the decision to go uptown to see it at the most vintagely excellent Eglinton Theatre, to which neither of had been in at least three years. Longer than that, for me. I haven't been inside that marvelous old vaudeville house since we lived in the neighbourhood... um... six years ago. Anyway, I digress. We parked on Julie's street and trotted off to the theatre for the 9:45pm show only to find that it was closed because the film broke. So, we chatted with a nice, middle-yeared waspy couple who were disappointed too, and then we made the decision to see it at the Cucumberland (Cumberland, really) theatre in Yorkville with all the pretentious art fags and wannabes. (Yes, I said the word 'fag' and I didn't mean cigarette. Bad me.) You never see so many black turtlenecks and three-quarter-length coats anywhere as you do in Yorkville.

We parked on the street and then popped into Greg's Ice Cream for a burger. Hah hah, no, actually, we got ice cream. Duh, silly. It's the best ice cream in Toronto, easily. We shared it as we walked down the street to the theatre. As we crossed the street, Nick paused and looked up Avenue Rd to a fellow in a knee-length winter coat (very 1950s) and said, "Is that...?" I said, "Hm? Who?" He said, "Caley." I looked. It was the same fellow who'd stood next to me just a second earlier waiting for the light to change. The walk was familiar. I said, "I dunno, let's go find out."

We had to run to catch up, too, because this fellow in his long film-studentesque coat was marching up the street at a rapid pace (because he knew it was us, most likely). I stopped running and walked directly behind him until he realised it and turned around. He did a double take and sort of yelped. My first thought upon seeing him was, "Wow, that's some nasty pathetic facial hair." He looks not so hot, sort of skinny-like, wan even, kind of like he smokes too much and drinks too much and probably does too much heroine. Scary, really, and by no means is there any basis for that assumption, except that he looked unwell. And then we all hugged like we ... uh... liked each other.

For the record, Caley, who had been one of my favourite people through highschool and then my boyfriend for some months, turned out to be a hurtful, nasty small dog of a man. It wasn't enough to dump me the way he did, and then to behave so badly afterward, but he was the one largely responsible for the period when Nick stopped talking to me. It took about a year before Nick realised that it wasn't the "crazy, fucking bitch" but her exboyfriend that he didn't want to be around. It was bad and there was a lot of sadness as close friendships fell apart.

So, there he was, and there we were, and we all hugged like it was natural. And then we rounded the corner and there was Marie-Claire, one of the people I'd socialised with loosely in highschool, and not one of my favourite people. It wasn't that I didn't like her, and I did try, but I suppose our auras repelled, or something. Anyway, he's dating her, which sort of puts a wrench in the theory that had been circulating concerning his gender preference, but then again, maybe not. Anyway, I couldn't fake liking her. I don't. I never did. And, to her credit, she didn't try either. Good for her.

We were able to escape them after that, buying our tickets and entering the theatre. Joyously, "Amelie" made for a perfect distraction. I had been saying for a few weeks that I was going to run into Caley, and lo, I did. Wacky. But the shock passed quickly and we saw a truly remarkable film, and had a lovely and magical time. (All this magic, I almost forget that it's November !) And it was a wonderful crisp evening full of steamy breath and people out walking briskly.

And when I look at my past, and what I've come from, who I've recovered from, and compare it to where I am now, and who I've become, I am thankful. The world does indeed seem a most amazing place.